If there was one advantage of Cami taking her Vow, it was the sheer ease of tapping into her powers. She thought, Let’s kill a monster, and the transformation took hold.

It still hurt, in some places: her bones breaking and reforming under her skin, antennae bursting through her skull, wings splitting her back open. But as she rose to her new, dizzying height, everything locked into place. Even her clothes endured the shift with no problem, charmed to stand the strain. Trintio had taught her that one, and she’d quickly done it to everything she wore.

She also found she’d come to like her new form. She was tall and lithe, built in a way she’d never thought to want, but now simply adored. Her hair had a different texture, a different sheen, wild and bright. Her face was sharper, her chest flatter, and her skin cool to the touch, save for where tufts of moss-like fuzz bloomed.

“How long did that take?” Cami asked, whipping around to a small, trembling Jane. It was surreal, the way she towered over her. Even her voice had changed--it was deeper, with a husky rasp, like autumn leaves on the wind.

“About ten seconds,” Jane said, “give or ta--ohfucklookout!”

Cami turned just in time to see the beast racing towards her. It leapt with its back legs, surprisingly graceful, and struck Cami straight in the gut. The blow sent her tumbling, her new legs folding beneath her, breath torn from her lungs in a startled gasp. She hit the forest floor and stars danced in her eyes.

The creature loomed over her, and for the first time, Cami got a good look at the attacker--it would’ve looked perfectly human, if not for the wild, violet glow in its eyes, and the fact it had four instead of the usual two. Its face was twisted into something feral, a malice without sentience. Dark, viscous drool poured from its snarling maw.

And that was what gave Cami her second wind. With a disgusted shriek, she kicked the thing away. It went flying, back hitting bark.

Cami didn’t wait for it to move. There was no room for mercy, with whatever this thing was. She raced over, grabbed it by the shoulder of its dark, tattered robes, and took flight.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jane shouted, but Cami didn’t have an answer. She just went higher.

Okay, magic, she thought, give me something to kill this freak with.

Her eyes caught a particularly thick branch in a nearby tree.

That will do.

The branch leapt from its trunk, severed smoothly as if by an unseen blade. Cami took it in her hand, and the adrenaline coursing through her knew just what to do next.

It plunged through the creature’s heart with startling ease, breaking through bone and emerging bloodied on the other side. The beast gurgled, blood foaming on its lips. Again, revulsion took over, and Cami dropped it. Jane scrambled back into the bushes, grimacing as it hit the forest floor with a dull thud.

Cami tried not to think about that. Instead, she forced on a grin and waved at Jane. “Look! I’m like an unidentified flying object!” She giggled: how hadn’t she made the comparison before? “I’m what I’ve always wanted to see!”

“You also just killed someone!” Jane shouted up at her. “I don’t know what it was, but killing is bad!”

“Not if they’re nonhuman!”

“You’re nonhuman!”

Cami floated down. Her boots hit the pine needles, and she let herself relax a bit. “I mean, yeah, but I’m sentient and stuff. That thing wasn’t sentient, I’ll tell you that much.”

And all of a sudden, Jane couldn’t meet her eyes. This perplexed Cami for a couple of reasons—first of all, usually it was the other way around, Cami struggling to meet Jane’s gaze.

Second of all, she was looking at the monster, which most sane people would avoid even a glimpse at.

Then she said, “I think it’s still breathing.”

Cami looked down. Sure enough, the beast’s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow gasps.

“Nothing a second stab can’t fix,” she said, reaching for the branch. “Maybe I missed the heart.”

“Fuck,” Jane whispered. She stared at Cami, now, but that wide-eyed look of terror hadn’t changed.

Was Jane afraid of her?

Before she could even consider the possibility, the creature died. No, it didn’t die in the conventional way--it melted. Veins popped up beneath its skin, angry and throbbing and an uncanny purple, and whatever it was coursing through them ate the beast alive, until a pile of smoking ash was all that remained.

A new voice said, “Nice job.”

Cami turned to its source, ready to strike, but it was just a woman.

A woman with glowing violet eyes, antennae, and large, feathery wings.

As well as an uncanny resemblance to Rachel, in the dark skin, round face, and dimpled smile. Of course, in contrast to Cami’s friend, this woman didn’t have a drop of colour in her clothes, black from top to bottom.

“You must be Cami and Jane,” she said. “You’re right on time. And, evidently, you know what you’re doing.”

“Who are you?” Jane asked.

The woman beamed at them. “Mallory Fernweh. I believe you’ve met my little sister. C’mon, she and the others are already inside.”